A love as old as time
by love2daydream
Summary: She thought she was just a regular person, but her world goes hair wire as she has to go into hiding because ‘He’ is active. It becomes even worse when ‘He’ finds her. Chapter 1 revised verson is up!


I walked though the field of white flower's, the wind whispering sweet nothing's into my ear. The sun warmed my skin and I began to twirl the material of my strapless dress brushing against my knee's, my hand's above my head, when I suddenly stopped.

There was something behind me. A deep dark thing that made me tremble and bite my lip. I felt warm tear's slid down my face and I blinked, surprised. I never cried in my dreams.

This dream felt so…..familiar. Like it happened before, but I knew for a fact it hadn't. My hand's clenched into fists as I blinked away my tear's and turned around.

There was nothing there. I sighed in relief, when I was pulled from behind into someone's chest. They're arm's wrapped around my waist and I felt they're hot breath on my ear.

"I'm right here." A male growled into my ear and my body froze. At the sound of his voice the flower's wilted, the sun turned a fiery red, the sky turning black. He tightened his grip and I whimpered in pain, my head suddenly spinning.

"You are mine. I'll be coming for you." He whispered before letting me fall down the hole that had appeared beneath me. I woke up screaming.

"Nhi!?" My mother burst into the room in a slight state of panic, a baseball bat held above her head. She looked surprisingly like a huge threat for a women only four feet eight. But then again the bat might of helped. The bat was lowered as my mother viewed her only child shivering on the bed, covered in sweat, tears caressing her olive skin.

"I had a nightmare." I admitted solemnly. I was ashamed. I was nineteen and here I was crying like a baby over some idiotic dream. "I'm fine mom, go back to bed."

She shook her head thin, salt and pepper hair swishing around. She climbed onto my bed, collecting me in her arm's as if I was a small child. She stroked my hair, and sang to me softly in Chinese, calming me in ways only moms can.

"Now," She said softly and used the word _baby_ in Chinese. "What was in your nightmare?"

"I was in a field. Dancing." I stopped trying to remember the now blurry dream. "Then there was a man behind me. He grabbed me." I closed my eye's and shivered. How is it that the now blurry dream could still scare me? Mom's powerful arm's tightened around my small waist. In comfort? In fear? "He said I was his, that he was coming to get me." Mom took in a sharp breath and I was sure that this time her arms _did_ tighten in fear.

"Mom?"

"Was he wearing armor?" She asked me her voice shaking. I blinked in surprise and looked down at my mother's head.

"What?"

"_Was he wearing armor?!_" She yelled out in Chinese frightening me. She only talked in her first language when she was comforting us or when she was angry.

"Um," I thought back to my dream, back to when his arms circled me and I was pulled against his chest. "Yes. He was wearing armor." Mom let a cry that I had only heard her utter once before. The sound she had made when we found out dad had died. Her back trembled as she became eerily silent. I gently rubbed circles over her back. "Mom?"

She slunk off the bed, out of my grip, and turned around so I wouldn't be able to see her face. But I saw a flash. A wet, tearful flash. Mom was crying. _Crying_. Mom's don't cry. Ever.

"I'll see you in the morning. We have to discuss something." Then she left me.

I didn't know why it shook me up so much to see my mom cry. I laid back down only to spend a night twisting and turning, visions of my crying mother, armor, and a mans voice flashing in and out in confusing and undistinguishable patterns.

The smell of breakfast was what woke me from my restless slumber. The sweet smell of blueberry pancakes, apples, and biscuits. The view of my mother's blood shot eye's brought back the memories of last night, hard and fast. I took a deep breath and sat in one of the chairs.

Mom sat my food in front of me, before turning around as she began to clean up her mess. I was only a quarter way though my food before she sat down with her usual breakfast, a cup of coffee. Black.

"What's wrong mom?" I finally questioned after five minutes of no sound beside's my silverware clinking and the slurping of her drink. She tried to smile, flashing her slightly yellow teeth, caused by smoking when she was a teenager.

"I'm sending you away." She finally admitted, running long finger's though her short hair. I gently set my fork and knife down and turned away from my mother. I took in a large breath, before bursting out in laughter. My laughter died away as I turned towards my mother, expecting her to have joined in only to be highly disappointed and surprised when I saw her sitting there, her mouth a single line, looking bitterly into her coffee. It took me two minutes to answer.

"Your serious?" She nodded her head, hair covering her features. I tried desperately to look into the chocolate eye's I had inherited from her. "Why? What did I do?"

She simply shook her head. I bit my lips, before glancing around our kitchen, seeing a picture of my late father. He was an all American white man my mother had met years after moving to Organ. I fingered the light brown hair I had gotten from his side of the family. Hair that I was extremely proud of.

"Where are you sending me?" I finally inquired, trying to look on the bright side of things. I was an adult now. I made my own decisions. I decided to buy these clothes, I decided not to go to college, I decided to live with my mother. I should make the decision to move away from my mother. If I didn't like the place, I could decide to leave it.

"It's a dojo in China. They also speak English, and they are going to be teaching you a special and unique martial art's that was created by a man, years ago who saved the world." My mother tightened her hands around the cup, biting her lip, her face turning slightly pink. "I made sure that they speak English, because I know you have a hard time speaking Chinese. You leave on a plane tomorrow."

I stood up so quickly that my chair crashed on the tile floor. My lips pursed together, trying to stop me from crying. I ran to my room, locking the door, behind me. I fell to floor and didn't bother to get up. God help me.

* * *

Here is the long awaited revised version of LOVE (The shortened title of this story). I spent months on this, not only rewritning it but also thinking up ideas for future chapters. I have a lot planned for this story, and with my new laptop (Yay Santa) I'll be able to write more. Merry Christmas!

P.S. For Christmas give me some reviews! Where's your holiday spirit?


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